For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (3 page)

“What are the names?” A man with a shadowed beard asked, waving a stack of parchment. His black hair hung in oily curls to his shoulders. Lauren imagined all these sailors must have come from pirate ships at one time. She glanced back at Malcolm, but he kept an expression of stone. If he was worried about Iona and Carleen being aboard this vessel with these type of men, he didn’t show it.

“Iona an’ Carleen MacGregor. They may have used the name Gregory,” Malcolm’s voice carried above the conversations around them as the water lapped against the docks.

The sailor scanned one parchment, then pulled out another. After he searched through three pages, he shook his dark head. “Sorry, but they are not on ’ere.”

“Thank ye.” Malcolm gave a small nod, but Lauren didn’t miss his sigh of relief.

He rode down the row stopping at each docked ship and asked questions.

Dusk was now upon them, and soon no light would be left, save for the lanterns people carried and candles burning through the windows. A shadow came at them. An elderly man hobbled over. He wore spectacles perched on the edge of his bony nose. A bushy gray beard and mustache covered his mouth.

“Ye’re lookin’ for someone?” He coughed as if his words took the last of his breath. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees and wheezed. “My son is cap’n of a ship bound for the Carolinas. I have a roster I will be submitting for Scotland’s records. Most o’ these ships do not go by the books, but my lad . . . he does.” The man grinned with fatherly pride. “Too bad I am not well enough to go these days, for I dearly love adventure on the high seas.”

“We are looking for Iona an’ Carleen MacGregor,” Malcolm said.

“
The
Loyal Adventure
set sail this morn. In fact, she’s headin’ to Charles Towne, South Carolina, to be exact.” He pointed a crooked finger at them. “But ye’ll have to look at the roster yerselves. I canna read. Would ye be willin’ to spare a coin to take a look?”

Malcolm reached in his plaid and tossed a coin to him. The man stumbled trying to catch it. He hobbled over to retrieve it from the dirt road. With slow effort, he made his way back and pulled a rolled parchment from his sleeve. “Here it is, just like I said.” He handed it up to Malcolm, who grunted when his horse sidestepped as the man coughed and wheezed.

“To tell the truth, I canna read either.” Malcolm unrolled the parchment. He held it up and squinted as if trying to make sense of it. Curious as to what happened to her friends, Lauren glanced at the slanted handwriting. She lifted her finger at the sight of the MacGregor name toward the bottom. A blot of ink made Iona’s illegible, but Carleen’s name was easy to read. She jabbed the paper to gain his attention. When he didn’t respond, Lauren grabbed his hand, squeezed, and jabbed the paper where their names were.

“Lass, are ye sure?” Malcolm asked, the hope in his voice undeniable.

She squeezed him again. The warmth in his touch was like a lifeline, leaving her in complete dependence on him.

“What did ye say the name of this ship is?” Malcolm asked.

“
The
Loyal Adventure
.” The man scratched the side of his head. “Bound for Charles Towne.”

“Thank ye, good sir.” Malcolm tipped his hat and secured an arm around Lauren. “Do ye know of another ship heading there?’

“Aye.” The man nodded with a yellow-toothed grin. “
The Sea Lady
sets sail just after sunrise in the morn.”

“We will need to find an inn for the night,” Malcolm lowered his voice near her ear. “But I warn ye, it shan’t be the kind of place ye’re used to, and I canna afford naught better. Ye need to be careful. The men there canna be trusted. If ye try to seek help, ye might end up in a situation worse than me.”

Since Lauren couldn’t respond, she listened, wondering if he wanted to intimidate her or if what he said was true. She would wait and see what she thought after they arrived.

Malcolm sat at a table with a mug of ale. He’d only taken a few sips. Now he waited for the liquid fire to dull the bitter taste and his senses along with it. The wee hours should have enticed his weary bones to sleep, but the blessed slumber once again evaded him. On the morrow he would leave bonny Scotland—possibly forever.

He could only afford one chamber at the inn, and in such a place of ill repute no one questioned his being with a woman. At least, the hood concealed her identity. Once she returned to her family, her reputation would still be intact.

In no way would he have harmed her with his knife, but it was necessary to threaten her. He needed to ensure her silence while he questioned the sailors. In spite of his behavior, she had helped him find his mother’s and sister’s names on the roster. He was grateful, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. His mother and sister were indentured servants to the captain. In return, the captain would sell them in Carolina when they arrived.

Malcolm’s heart was heavy with worry. He couldn’t help wondering what kinds of hardships they were enduring. If only Duncan Campbell had been more patient. Resentment lodged in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He lifted his cup and took a long swallow. This time the liquid burned going down. He inhaled deeply and shook his head. Malcolm released the air in his lungs like a dragon blowing out fire.

After he drained his cup, Malcolm returned to their chamber. Lauren slumbered on the bed, lying on her stomach with her limbs spread out. She still wore her clothes. The warm fire he started in the hearth earlier would soon die. The tiny blue flames licked what was left of the smoldering logs. Cold air already sneaked into the room. Malcolm grabbed Lauren’s red cloak discarded on a wooden chair in the corner. He spread it out over her before settling on his own makeshift pallet on the floor.

Lauren was a decent lass. What had motivated her to read the roster for him? Was she trying to win him over? The lass wasted her efforts. He would never trust a Campbell, not even one as bonny and as enticing as she.

He closed his eyes and allowed the drowsy effect of the whiskey to take over his mind. He wasn’t a drinking man by habit, but tonight he needed something to ease his anxiety. One mug was enough to do the trick but not enough to put him in a stupor.

Sounds of people walking and talking in the hallway and laughter next door faded as waves tumbling to a sandy shore filled his mind. It didn’t look like any beach he had ever seen in Scotland. The air was warm and the sky a brilliant blue. Lauren laughed as she rode by him on a brown mare. Her blonde curls bounced down her back as she leaned forward challenging him to a race. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her azure blue eyes mesmerizing and filled with . . . No, it was impossible.

Malcolm bolted up with a start, pulling himself from the dream. With his breathing erratic, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. Lauren still slept. At least one of them had gotten some rest. He wondered about the time.

He strode over to the window and peeked through the drapes. Still dark outside. Dawn would arrive in an hour or two. It would give him enough time to find
The Sea Lady
and return with some food to break their fast.

Careful not to wake Lauren, Malcolm let himself out and used the key to click the lock in place. He didn’t want Lauren escaping while he was gone.

Crisp air filled his lungs, and each time he breathed out, it looked like white smoke lingered from his mouth. The moon cast a silver glow that beamed off the surface of the ocean. A few ships had set sail, and others had docked since yesterday. Most were small vessels, but Malcolm noticed a larger ship toward the middle of the wharf. He hurried toward it.

A man with a steaming cup of coffee walked over the plank to the dock.

“Good sir, do ye know where I can find
The Sea Lady
?” Malcolm asked.

“Right ’ere.” The man gestured behind him.

Malcolm grinned and thanked him. By the time, he arrived back at the inn, the smell of bacon and brewing coffee lingered in the air. His mouth watered and his stomach rumbled. A man sat at a table, ready to eat, while a serving wench adjusted her white cap and tied an apron around her bulging middle.

“Could I have two bowls of porridge and two cups of coffee?” Malcolm asked, sitting at the nearest table.

“Ye that hungry, are ye?” Her thick voice sounded low and husky, as if still trying to wake. Her lips lifted into a smile as she gave him a wink. “I would think a brawny mon such as yerself would need more’n a wee bit o’ porridge.”

“ ’Tis why I have asked for two of each.” He held up two fingers.

Malcolm braced his elbows on the table and linked his fingers as he waited. The server set his coffee down first. Malcolm gripped the warm mug in his cold hands and sipped the hot liquid. A moment later, steaming porridge arrived. While he ate, Malcolm pulled out a vial of valerian that Mary slipped inside the packed roll she gave him. He mixed some of it in the other bowl for Lauren.

“Pardon me, but could I have a wee bit o’ whiskey?” Malcolm asked.

“Goodness, mon! ’Tis a bit early, is it not?” The woman turned a wide-eyed gaze at him.

“Aye.” Malcolm nodded. “ ’Tis why I only need a wee bit.”

“All right.” She shrugged and walked away. By the time she returned, he shoved in the final bite. She shook her head in disbelief as she set down the small cup of whiskey.

Malcolm waited until she left and poured more valerian in Lauren’s coffee. With the coffee in one hand and the wooden bowl in the other, Malcolm set out for their chamber.

It took him a moment to maneuver the items in his hands while inserting the key and unlocking the door. He pushed it open to see Lauren at the washbasin cleaning her arms up to her elbows. She turned and glared at him. “Ye left me alone last night, and I wake up this morn all alone again.”

“I thought ye might prefer it that way, wee privacy,” Malcolm said. “Besides, I did not think ye wanted to spend time alone with yer abductor.” He grinned and held out her food. “I brought something to break yer fast.”

“I was not referring to spending time with ye, only that I did not want to be neglected.” She grabbed a towel and dried her arms. “Ye covered me . . . with my cloak.” Lauren pulled her shirt sleeves to her wrists and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Aye, I thought ye might be cold.” He handed her the coffee and the porridge. “Eat all of it. I canna guarantee when we will eat again.” He sat in the wooden chair across from her.

She sipped her coffee and grimaced, then took her first bite of porridge and frowned. “The food here tastes strange.”

“Aye, mine was as well.” He gestured to her food. “Eat. We do not have much time.”

She must have been hungry. To his relief, she obeyed. After she finished the last bite, she blinked and swayed. She managed to lift her mug and sipped the rest of her coffee. “Are we leaving now?” Lauren blinked several times as if she couldn’t focus. “Thank ye. I feel much better.”

“Time to go.” Malcolm stood and reached out to her. She tried to take his hand, but she stretched too far to the right. “This way.” Malcolm looped an arm behind her and under her knees, lifting her in his arms.

“What is wrong . . . with me?” Lauren mumbled. “I do not understand why I am so tired. Did ye poison me?” She touched the heel of her hand to her forehead, wrinkling her fair brow.

“ ’Tisn’t poison. Just something to help ye relax an’ sleep a wee bit,” he said. “How else could I get ye aboard
The Sea Lady
without resistance?”

“Ye brute!” Lauren tried to slap him, but her aim was off.

Malcolm chuckled and pulled her close. He had no doubt that by the time they reached the ship, she would be asleep and docile.

Malcolm carried Lauren’s sleeping form down the boardwalk where a crowd had gathered in front of
The Sea Lady
. Two sailors were at a wooden table. A long line had formed in front of the first man, who was younger with no facial hair. He had a long parchment roll and wrote names down with other information. He pushed the quill across the page as fast as he could. The other man was a few years older with a brown mustache. He also had a parchment roll with quill and ink, but unlike his friend, he had a brown box with a lid.